Page 2 of Viper

Our eyes meet and a shiver pulses through me. I can even feel the hair on the back of my neck lifting. “I have to go. Thanks.” I step away from his touch.

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m never drinking again.

“Where do you live? I’ll give you a lift.”

“Yeah, I don’t take rides from strangers.”

He holds out his hand for me to shake.

For some reason, I sink into it without thought, like a reflex of kindness. His palm is rough, like he does physical labor. A million questions unlock, and I want to know more.

“I’m Abe,” he says with a nod, still holding my hand. “I work out in Kansas City, but I’m traveling through Rugged Mountain for the rodeo. No wife, no kids, and don’t want any. Spent a fair amount of time in the Navy, got injured, came home. Now, this bar is my family.” He waves toward the bartender with his free hand.

She’s an older woman with tight red curls and a bright smile. “You’re good with Abe. He’s a pain in the ass, but he won’t hurt ya. In fact, you’re probably best to get a ride. No use driving like that, and I wouldn’t trust a random Uber driver over Viper.”

I don’t trust anyone, so there’s that. I mean, even now, the woman behind the bar has referred to this man as both Abe and Viper. Which one is he?

I glance back at the giant in front of me and let go of his hand, despite the fact that I want to keep holding on. “Don’t you ride a motorcycle? I’ve never been on one. I—”

“You’ll have to sit in front of me. I think you’d slide off the back the way you’re tipping.”

I laugh. “What? No. I’ve never been on a motorcycle. I’m terrified of them.”

“Why?”

I shrug and lean up against the back wall, desperate for its support. “Why is anyone scared of anything?”

He clears his throat. “I’ll keep you safe. Promise. Why don’t you call your husband and let him know I’m giving you a ride?”

I roll my eyes at how honorable that sounds. This man says all the right things, which probably only means there’s an even higher chance he’s a murderer. I think back to all the episodes of true crime shows I’ve watched over the years. I can’t remember any specifically, but I’m sure one of them must have started with a drunk girl in a bar taking a ride from a stranger. That said, I’m exhausted, I know I can’t drive, and it’s a solid two mile walk back to my hotel. I could chance weirdos on the sidewalk or chance the semi-verified man from the bar. “Fine,” I lament, “but I guarantee he’s in bed already. It’s like the middle of the night for him.”

“Where is he?”

“New York on business. He’ll be back tomorrow.” I dial his number as I talk, then step away when he answers.

“Hey,” he pants into the phone as though he’s been running.

“Hey… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat and the bed creaks. “The phone startled me out of my sleep. What’s wrong with you?” There’s a tinge of anger in his tone that I can’t place.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” Again, his tone is harsh. “Just tell me why you’re calling!”

My heart stiffens with concern, but I answer his question. I am the person who called. “Well, I accidentally had too much to drink tonight. So… this older local is going to bring me back to the hotel. You okay with that?” I don’t know why I emphasize the older part. Maybe because I want Craig to know that the dude giving me a ride isn’t a threat. Though, I’m not sure I should care right now, considering he’s being such an ass.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Sleep well. Love you.” He pauses for a moment and the sound of a woman’s voice drifts faintly in the distance.

My mind goes into overdrive. Is someone with him? Is that why he was panting? Did he leave town to be with another woman?

No. That’s crazy. He wouldn’t do that to me. We’ve been together since high school. He knows me. I know him. It was probably the TV. Besides that, I’m drunk. That noise could’ve been in my head.

That said, I’m a little shocked at his response. He didn’t ask me if I was okay, he didn’t ask me to check in when I got back, and he didn’t seem to give two fucks that some strange man was driving me around. If I weren’t so exhausted with this day, I might linger on how shitty that feels.

Instead, I turn toward the goliath at the doorway and nod. “Okay. Ready when you are.”

The man holds the door open, and I follow behind, lingering in the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing. I’m not sure I’ve ever smelled anything so good in my life.

---